


Lucky Stroke

by prototyping



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Action, Cheesy One-Liners, Gen, I like beating up Leon idk, RE how do you even, action fic, based on when I survived Krauser slitting my throat, because that's legit, but it's Leon guys, fight fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-24 00:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2560817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick Leon+Krauser fight fic based on their final battle. As always, more than a little luck is on Leon's side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Stroke

Leon felt the heat of another explosion at his heels and stumbled slightly, half-falling into a dive as the force pushed him forward and having to twist the motion into a somersault to avoid tripping. He righted himself and landed in a crouch behind the stone wall, throwing his back against it with both hands on his nine-millimeter. Slowly, he inched towards the edge, watching for that telltale red laser, and when nothing showed he launched himself onto one knee and around the corner, gun raised and trigger finger tensed – and saw no one.  
  
He fell completely still, his eyes rapidly scanning the ruins of the stone fortress, but Krauser was gone. With irritated curses echoing in his head, Leon stood, twice as on guard as he took a few cautious steps forward.  _Krauser's been sticking with long-ranged attacks. That last shot must've hit him bad if he's not fighting up close any –_  
  
Suddenly he was jerked backwards, hard enough and with such force on his chest that for an instant he thought he'd been shot. Then his back met something solid, the pressure on his front moved up, and a strong hand gripped his jaw to hold him still, rough and bruising –  
  
"You're slowing down, Leon."  
  
Leon immediately reacted, but he didn't have room for a head butt and he couldn't reach back far enough to jab at Krauser's eyes – a glint of silver caught his attention and a second later he felt cold steel across the front of his neck.  
  
At that, instinct overruled training. While it wasn't his first choice, he thrust the barrel of his gun over his shoulder and fired a blind shot.  
  
– And missed, apparently, because Krauser didn't drop or even let go, but he  _did_  shift, and once Leon felt that, he moved, driving all of his strength into an upper body twist and his elbow into Krauser's ribs. Oddly enough, through the noise of their struggles and the blood pounding in his head, Leon was still able to hear that low, sneering  _"Heh"_  just behind him – a split-second before the hunting knife slashed across his throat.  
  
Time seemed to freeze, a universal silence seemed to fall for that instant. Still in motion, Leon shoved himself free and away and staggered backwards as he glared at Krauser, panting for air and taking a moment to realize that he was still breathing. He quickly felt along his neck with his hand, even more puzzled when, sure enough, warm blood covered his fingertips. Before he could consider it, Krauser was on him again and Leon only just tore his own knife from its sheath in time to block a slice at his chest, switching the gun to his left hand a second before and then firing pointblank at Krauser's stomach. Somehow, he  _still_  missed, because Krauser had darted to the side unrealistically fast and now drew back, smirking, as he tossed something down –  
  
 _Flash grenade –_  Leon shielded his eyes as the light blast erupted, the flare piercing his eyelids regardless. By the time he recovered, blinking, he was alone again. Avoiding his first mistake, he shot a glance over his shoulder, but the coast was clear and he hurried into a small alley between the walls, where he quickly slapped a new clip into his gun and caught his breath.  
  
Feeling again at his neck, Leon discovered with some sore probing that the blade's tip had actually caught the hollow of his throat before slitting down over his collarbone and part of his chest. A narrow miss, with barely an inch saving him from a severed trachea.  
  
He sighed at the sting it had left and the blood coating his fingers and glove. He could only hope that no more of those dogs were around. After wiping his hand on his jeans, Leon edged again to the wall's corner and listened.  
  
 _Gotta end this quick,_  he thought, feeling the agitated knife wound on his side starting to bleed again.  _I've already gotten two strikes._


End file.
